


Going Home

by FairyPrincessKjar



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOTAR - Freeform, Canon Divergence, F/M, Feysand angst, Mating Bond, Under the Mountain - Freeform, feysand, feysand fic, ugh I love these two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-01-06 11:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyPrincessKjar/pseuds/FairyPrincessKjar
Summary: Feyre and Rhys stood together on the small balcony just after Under the Mountain.  What if the mating bond had snapped into place for Feyre as well?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! I love getting comments and constructive criticism! Enjoy! ~Rachel
> 
> Find me on Tumblr- illyrianbeauty

“Be glad of your human heart, Feyre.  Pity those who don’t feel anything at all.” **  
**

I couldn’t explain about the hole that had already formed in my soul—didn’t want to, so I just nodded.

“Well, good-bye for now,” he said, rolling his neck as if we hadn’t been talking about anything important at all. He bowed at the waist, those wings vanishing entirely, and had begun to fade into the nearest shadow when he went rigid.

His eyes locked on mine, wide and wild, and his nostrils flared. Shock—pure shock flashed across his features at whatever he saw on my face, and he stumbled back a step. Actually stumbled.

“What is—” I began.”  My knees buckled as a torrent of emotions coursed through me- disbelief, joy, and longing.  Such profound longing.  My heart ached at the intensity of the emotions, even as I struggled to make sense of them.  The thread I had felt tugging deep within me earlier went taut, beckoning to me in a way I didn’t quite understand.  Realization tore through me, insistent and overwhelming, like a physical blow to the head.  

I tore my gaze away from his, taking in the tattoo that stood out in dark contrast to my now pale skin.  Rhysand.  It was his thoughts- no not his thoughts, but rather his emotions I was experiencing.  How was that even possible?  Was it because of the reckless bargain I had struck with him? Or rather, was it due to whatever power he possessed that allowed him access to others innermost thoughts?  As he had done to me that day all those months ago?  A shiver ran down my spine at the memory, at how utterly at his mercy I had been.        

Rhysand let loose a growl, low and frustrated.  My eyes snapped up to meet his.  His pupils flared as I gave him a long, considering look. Tendrils of shadow kissed night writhed and thrashed around his body.  And, as though he was no longer able to keep them hidden, great membranous wings erupted from his back. Curved, wicked looking talons were visible over his shoulders.  My eyes trailed over the beautiful, brutal wings as they rustled in agitation.  A small part of me marveled at the beauty and strength of them.  What it must have cost him to keep them hidden all those years- my stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought.  

The air suddenly became rife with magic.  Rhysand began to fade, folding and twisting into little more than smoke and mist.  I stumbled forward, nearly tripping over my newly elongated fae limbs.  My fingers wrapped around his wrist, though I wasn’t wholly sure what had possessed me to reach out to him in the first place.  He gazed at me, a look of wicked delight flashing across his features, as his fingers entwined with mine.  That thing in my chest, the bargain tethering me to him, throbbed painfully as his thumb caressed my palm in a slow, sensuous circle.  

Ignoring the little sparks of heat that had erupted all over my skin in the wake of his touch, I staggered back a step, wrenching my hand out of his grasp.  

“What the hell did you do to me?” I hissed, wrapping my arms over my chest.  I could have sworn hurt flashed across his features, but was gone so quickly that I thought I had imagined it.  

“I did nothing, Feyre darling,” he purred, though his eyes were still wide as he took me in.  

“Then how do you explain this,” I paused, my hands dropping to my stomach, gently rubbing at the spot where I could feel the inexplicable pull of the tether that binded me to him.  My lips pulled back into a snarl as I continued, “This feeling, this pull I feel towards you.  Make it stop.”

“Feyre,” he rasped, running a hand through his hair.  

“Break the bargain,” I demanded, thrusting my tattooed arm out towards him.  

“And why ever would I do that?” he asked, sliding his hands into his pockets.  There was a gleam in his eyes, cold and calculating.    

I took a step towards him, my voice heavy with desperation as I said, “I think that we can both agree that I owe you nothing, and you owe me nothing.  Prythian is finally free.  What else could you want of me?  Break this bond between us.”  He flinched. Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, flinched.      

I arched a brow as I peered at him, utterly perplexed at his reaction to my plea.  He must know how I felt about the bond…

Bond.

I went utterly still as the word clanged through me, rattling me to my very core.  No. No. No. No, it couldn’t be!  I was in love with Tamlin- I had wrecked myself for that love, had died for that love.  Surely, he was to be my mate.  The mating bond simply hadn’t snapped into place yet.  But it would, I was sure of it.  Only… Rhysand.  He was scrutinizing me, his expression shrewd and discerning, and yet, his eyes seemed to be burning with something akin to hope.  No, this wasn’t right.  I needed to get out of here, and back to Tamlin.  

“Fine.  I should have known that a little act of decency was beyond your capabilities,” I snarled, giving him a vulgar gesture as I twisted around, moving towards the doorway.  

“Feyre, wait,” he called after me, his voice betraying none of the emotions I felt roiling in my gut- emotions that I was certain belonged to the High Lord behind me.  I paid him no heed as I stalked towards the entrance.  Gentle fingers grasped my arm, pulling me to a stop.  I wrenched my arm out of his grasp, the desire to slap him across the face surged through me.  

“Don’t touch me,” I snarled, whirling around to face him. He recoiled at my words, as though I had indeed struck him.  

“I would never force myself on you, Feyre,” he said in a quiet voice, his words laced with rage.  Instinctively, I took a step back.  Rhysand was breathing heavily, his chest raising and falling rapidly.  He turned to lean against the railing, peering out at the vast expanse before us.  He ran a hand over his face roughly.  I understood in that instant that it wasn’t anger at me, for what I had said, that clouded his features. I didn’t want to think too much about the cause, the reason that arrogant façade he so loved to wear had all but been washed away.   If I could just get him to understand, to release me of this Cauldron damned bargain…

I took in a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as though I were about to face the Middengard Worm once again.  If I were being honest with myself, I would have preferred the worm.  I leaned against the railing next to him, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body seep deep into my bones.    

“Rhysand, could we please just…”

“Just what, Feyre?” he rasped, pinching the bridge of his nose.  Never before had I seen him looking so unhinged.  He slowly lifted his gaze to meet mine.  As his near violet eyes met mine, that thread that tethered us together grew taut, pulling and stretching almost painfully.  I flinched imperceptibly as a loud crack sounded, reverberating through my very being.  I gaped at him, as though I had never seen him properly until now.  It was as though my very world had been tipped upside down. A single word roared through me, calling out to me- beckoning me to claim the male before me.          

Mate. Mate. Mate.

I shook my head, as though in denial of what was in front of me.  Rhysand eyed me warily, his nostrils flaring, no doubt sensing the shift in my demeanor.  

“Feyre,” he began, his voice skittered across my skin, down my spine. I threw out a hand to stop him, not wanting to give him a chance to continue. Without a backwards glance towards my mate, I fled.

I tore down the corridor, wanting to put as much space between myself and him as I could.  I didn’t want to think about what we were to each other, what that meant for Tamlin and I.  

“He’s nothing to me,” I snarled, low and vicious.  As I neared the room Tamlin and I had shared last night, I slowed my pace.  I took in a shuddering breath, willing my wildly beating heart to slow.  My fingers trembled slightly as I twisted the handle, hoping that Tam was still asleep.  I couldn’t tell him about… there was nothing to tell him.  Nothing that mattered, anyway. All that mattered was that we were free.  We could return to the Spring Court now.  Together.  I entered the room, feeling more sure of myself than I had just moments before.  

“Feyre! Where the hell have you been?” Tamlin roared, enveloping me in a bone crushing hug.  Every fiber of my being recoiled at his touch, cried out at the wrongness of it all.  I bit down on my lower lip, fighting the urge to pull out of his grasp.  I could do this.  I loved Tamlin.  For him, I could do this.  I stepped out of the embrace and gave him a small smile.

“I was taking a walk.  I wanted to stretch my legs,” I said, gesturing vaguely at the new fae body I now possessed.  

His eyes narrowed as he ground out, “Please don’t wander off again.  I was worried about you.”  Though a small part of me balked at what he was saying, I nodded in agreement.  

“I love you, Tamlin.” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  He entwined his fingers with mine, his eyes bright with happiness.  

“Let’s go home,” he said, a smile spreading across his face.  

“Home,” I repeated, my voice sounding hollow even to me. I forced some semblance of a smile on my face, hoping he wouldn’t see it for the lie it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I love getting comments and constructive criticism! Enjoy! ~Rachel
> 
> Find me on Tumblr- illyrianbeauty

Rhysand

Every single one of my male instincts were roaring at me, demanding I touch her, taste her.  The urge to follow Feyre as she fled through the doorway was so strong, nearly bringing me to my knees in its intensity.  Mate.  My mate. The words echoed through me, in sync with the wild beating of my heart.  As she vanished from sight, my body trembled with restraint.  The mating bond thrashed and writhed inside my chest, the distance between us already unbearable.   If I took one step towards the door, just a single step, I would damn the consequences and take her with me to the Night Court.  And she’d hate me for it.  Well, more so than she already did.   **  
**

I took in a shuddering breath, desperate to gain some semblance of control over the torrent of emotions coursing through me.  An image of Feyre flashed through my mind, surprise and disbelief written so clearly across her delicate, newly made fae features.  She had flinched, recoiled as though I had struck her.  Her lilac and pear scent, which still teased my nostrils, had been laced with fear.  Mother above, she had felt the mating bond snap into place and had been terrified.  Whether is was fear of me or of the bond, I wasn’t sure.  Nor did it really matter.  Not anymore.        

I leaned against the railing, the enormity of what I had just lost pressing down upon me, the weight of it causing my shoulders to sag.  I gazed down at the mountain, its seemingly endless, barren expanse was bleak and uninviting.  Nothing but an overwhelming sense of fury flooded my senses.  Fighting the urge to bring the entire cursed mountain down around me, I ran a hand roughly through my hair.  

Her reaction, the way she had run from me- It was clear she hadn’t wanted the mating bond, hadn't wanted me.  Feyre had made her decision.  She chose to go back to the Spring Court.  Back to _him_.  My lips pulled back as I loosed a snarl, low and vicious.          

Mate.  My mate. She was my mate.      

Not your anything.  I was the dark lord of Night.  I was nothing to her, nothing but a horrifying reminder of what she’d had to endure these past few months.  A nightmare made manifest.  It was foolish of me to ever have hoped that she would accept the bond.  She would never choose me, not when she had her golden prince whom she loved.  

With all that had occurred Under the Mountain, everything that she had gone through, Feyre deserved to be loved.  She deserved happiness.  No matter what it cost me, I would respect her choice.  Even if that choice was _him_.  I fought down the bile that threatening to rise.  My mate was in love with my worst enemy.  A mirthless chuckle escaped me as I stood from the railing.  What a Cauldron damned mess my life had become.  I squared my shoulders, vanishing my wings again with half a thought.  It was time for me to finally go home, back to Velaris.  

I inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent one final time, before I let the darkness and shadow and envelope me, taking me back to the City of Starlight.  

##  *******

As eager as I was to see my family again, I opted to winnow directly into the townhouse as opposed to the House of Wind.  They would become aware of my presence the moment I entered the city, especially Azriel.  I had no doubt that the shadowsinger had already learned about the most recent turn of events.  The details of Amarantha’s demise were most likely spreading throughout all of Prythian like a wildfire, High Fae and Lesser Faeries alike rejoicing at the news of their newfound freedom.  With all the spies Az had stationed throughout the other courts, it probably hadn't taken long for the information to reach the Night Court.  Knowing Az as I did, I assumed he had let the rest of the inner circle know I would be returning home soon.  But I needed a moment to myself before they bombarded me with a string of endless questions, none of which I felt any desire to answer.  I needed to reel myself back in somehow, to find a way to hide how truly and utterly broken I had become.     **  
**

Gazing around the familiar room, my stomach lurched painfully.  Someone, most likely at Mor’s behest, had kept the place in good repair in my absence.  Every candlestick, picture frame, and piece of furniture was exactly as it had been the day I had left.  Everything, down to the slightest detail, had remained untouched… unchanged.  I, however, had not been so lucky.  After all that had been done to me, all that I had been forced to do... I  would never be the same again.  My chest constricted painfully, that broken, ripped shard my soul had become... it fractured further.  I ran a hand over my face, feeling the tears begin to pool in my eyes.  

“Rhys?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, taking in a deep breath.  Mor.  I turned around slowly, sliding my hands deep into my pockets.    

After a feeble attempt at a smile, I said, “Hello cousin.”  Honey brown eyes met mine.  For a time, we just stood there, taking in the sight of the other.  Her hand trembled slightly as it wrapped around her throat, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Rhys,” she repeated, as though she didn’t quite believe her eyes, her voice was heavy with emotion.

“It’s me, Mor.  I’m home,” I said, my voice wobbling with each and every word.  

A tiny, broken sound escaped from her lips, and then she was closing the distance between us, enveloping me in a bone crushing hug.    

She buried her face into my chest, clinging to me as though afraid to let me go- as though I’d disappear again as soon as she released me. My shirt soon became soaked with her tears.  I hesitantly wrapped my arms around her.  These gentle touches of affection were so foreign to me after so many years of servicing Amarantha. Nothing about Under the Mountain had been kind or caring.  I rested my chin on the top of her head, her golden tresses tickled my chin as I pulled her closer to me.  

“I’m home,” I said, more to myself than to her.  Long ago, I had given up any and all hope of being reunited with my family.  I suddenly had the feeling that this was all just a dream, that I would soon wake up, and find myself in bed next to Amarantha.  

“I missed you.  Every single day… I missed you,” she sniffed, wiping the tears from her cheeks, effectively stopping my thoughts from traveling down a dark, treacherous path.       

“I missed you too, Mor,” I said, breathing in her familiar citrusy scent.  But Mor’s was not the scent I longed for.  Her’s was not the embrace I ached for.  I wasn’t able to hold back the tears that began streaming down my face, nor the tremors that wracked my body.  

“You’re free, Rhys.  You’re home,” Mor croaked, making soothing strokes down my back.  

I loved and appreciated Mor for wanting to help, to comfort me.  But in that moment, she wasn’t the one whom I wanted with me, the one I wanted to be with.  I wanted Feyre.  My mate.  My mate, who wanted nothing to do with me.  She was probably already safely ensconced back in the Spring Court, her limbs entangled with Tamlin’s.  I felt bile rising in my throat.  I wrenched out of Mor’s embrace, staggering back a few steps.  

“She’s my mate,” I roared, grasping fistfuls of my hair, nearly ripping them out in my rage.  Mor’s eyes became owlish as she gaped at me, cleary taken aback by my outburst.  

“A mate?” she gasped, her features clouded with confusion.  Her eyes flickered around the room, only to confirm what she already knew.  I had indeed returned to the Night Court alone.  

“Yes, I have a mate,” I growled, my hands forming into fists at my side.  

“Who is she, Rhys?  Why isn’t she here?”

“Because she’s with him,” I bellowed, the tenuous hold I had on my temper a thing of the past.  The glass vase shattered as it hit the floor, the table it had sat upon splintering apart under the force of my blow.  

“Rhys!” Mor shrieked, grasping my arm and pulling my away from the wreckage.  I knew she was only trying to help, but I was far too gone to care.

“She’s my mate.  My mate! And she’s with him,” I cried, collapsing to the ground.  My knees struck the floor with a resounding thud.  Mor was instantly at my side, pulling my into a close embrace.  She held onto me tightly, not releasing me until the tremors had subsided.  Though she had a million questions burning in her eyes, she remained silent, waiting until I was ready.  That was one of Mor’s specialties- she knew exactly when to pester someone until they finally gave in, and when to give them space.      

“Her name is Feyre,” I began, the corners of my mouth twitching up at the thought of my fierce, brave huntress.  Mor gave me a watery smile, encouraging me to continue.  I took in a shuddering breath and began telling Mor the story of a human girl who had gone Under the Mountain.  

My mate.

The woman who had stood her ground against Amarantha, who had the nerve to throw a bone javelin at her, despite her injuries. 

My mate. 

Who had freed Prythian, had saved us all, and had died in the process.  

My mate.  

I spoke in hushed tones about how Feyre, whom I was hopelessly in love with, had been brought back from death, had been remade as a high fae by the power of the High Lords. I told Mor about the beautiful, wonderful thing that had come into my life.      

Feyre.  My mate…  who had learned about the bond.  

And had walked away.    


	3. Chapter 3

Feyre

_“Nooo!” the High Fae youth sobbed, his eyes were wide and filled with terror as they held my gaze.  I took a single step forward, my heart constricted painfully._

_“I’m growing impatient, Feyre,” Amarantha tutted, her fingernails tapping impatiently along the side of her throne.  I bristled at the sound, at what she was demanding of me. I risked a glance in Tamlin’s direction, immediately regretting the decision.  Even now, after all that I had done, all that I was about to do, he refused to send even the smallest of smiles in my direction. The torn, shredded pieces of my heart crumbled as I turned back around, facing the quivering form of the High Fae before me._

_“Please,” he pleaded, struggling in vain against the binds that held him down.  I broke, fracturing bit by bit, with each step that closed the distance between us._

_“I’m sorry,” I wailed, the hand in which I clutched the ashwood dagger trembled violently.  He cowered from me, from the promise of death I held. Tears streamed down my face as I took ahold of his shoulder and thrust the dagger into his chest.  His eyes widened in surprise, a strangled gasp escaped his lips. I watched silently, unable to move, as he slumped to the ground, the light in his eyes dimming until it was wholly extinguished._

_Blood.  There was so much blood.  I coated my hands, pooled on the ground at my feet._

_The dagger clattered to the ground, the sound reverberating through my bones, down my spine._

_“Good,” Amarantha purred from her throne.  “Again.”_

_A sob ripped through my chest as I reached for the second dagger.  My hands, still wet and sticky with blood, shook uncontrollably as my fingers wrapped around its hilt._

_Another dagger.  Another innocent High Fae.  This time female. I knew her, the words she’d say, the prayer she’d recite.  For Tamlin, I would do this. For him, I would damn the tattered remnants of my soul straight to hell.  To free his Court, to free all of Prythian, I would do this._

_I turned and faced the kneeling female.  Her expression was fierce, her dark eyes flashed with a deep resolve as they met mine.  I knew I would never dare paint her, paint this moment. I would never be able to capture the fire that burned in her eyes, the way she held her head high as she met her death.  Her death at my hands._

_I gripped her slender shoulder, and plunged the dagger into her awaiting heart._

_Murderer.  Butcher. Monster.  Liar. Deceiver._

_“Excellent, my dear,” Amarantha said, gigging delightedly at the sight before her.  This was just some sick, perverse sort of entertainment for the fae, and I was nothing more than the unwilling star in her show._

_One last dagger.  One last High Fae kneeling before me._

_Murderer.  Butcher. Monster.  Liar. Deceiver._

_One last innocent soul for me to slaughter.  And then this nightmare would finally be over.  One more death, and then I could finally turn the blade on myself… and end it all.  I could feel myself falling apart, shattering into a million pieces. Tamlin. For Tamlin, I must do this.  I took in a shuddering breath, and stepped in front of the awaiting figure. The cold hilt of the dagger bit into my hand, still warm with the blood of the High Fae female._

_Another male.  His broad shoulders were relaxed, without fear.  I knew who was waiting beneath that hood. I knew what to expect- I had relieved this moment in my dreams often enough.  I watched silently as the hood was ripped from his head. The fae surrounding me gasped, their confusion a tangible thing.  I felt the world spinning, reality slipping away from me as I sank to the ground. It was not emerald green eyes that met mine.  No, it was not Tamlin’s eyes that held my gaze, but rather, violet eyes kissed with starlight. Rhys’s eyes. Rhys. Mate. My mate._

***   

My eyes flew open, the last remnants of a scream falling from my lips.  I bolted upright in bed, my body still quaking in terror, aftershocks of the nightmare that had plagued me ever since my return to the Spring Court.  The frilly pink nightgown I had slipped on after Tamlin and I had made love earlier that evening clung to my sweat slicked skin. My gaze flashed across the room, convinced that Amarantha or one of her henchmen would be lurking in the shadows, ready to drag me back to Under the Mountain.    

I took in a shuddering breath, attempting to ease the ache that had been growing in my chest.   _A dream_ . _It was just a dream_ , I assured myself, trying to reel myself back in.  I tucked a damp strand of hair behind an ear, my fingers grazing the delicate edge of its newly pointed tip which marked me as High Fae.  I ran my hands along the sheets, wiping off the sweat which clung to them, so similar to how the blood of the High Fae I had slaughtered had covered my hands, my body.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, fighting down the bile that threatened to rise, though I knew it would do little good.  I bolted out of the bed, fumbling in the dark as I staggered towards the bathing room. I dropped to the ground, my knees jarring with the force of the impact.  I knelt before the toilet on the cold, hard ground and emptied the contents of my stomach. This was the price that the Cauldron demanded I pay. There was no way to undo what I had done, no way to atone for the murders I had committed.    

I spent my days pretending that I was fine, happy even, that I hadn't been utterly broken by what Amarantha had done to me, done to us.  Night after night, I relived the worst of what I had endured Under the Mountain. Night after night, I was chased from my dreams by piercing, violet eyes.  Night after night, I heaved up the contents of my dinner. And night after night, I suffered alone. Whether or not Tamlin was aware of the nightmares that plagued me, I didn’t know. I didn’t blame him though.  Not really. He had his own demons to battle. When nightmares tore him from sleep, Tamlin was an explosion of fangs and fur. He would stand guard for the remainder of the night, pacing back and forth in front of the door and windows.  The first few times this had happened, I had tried to comfort him, to be there for him. I had tried to pull him from the darkness that haunted us both. But every time I did, his eyes glinted dangerously, and he resumed guarding the door with a renewed vigor.  

When I was sure the heaving had finally subsided, I flushed the toilet with a trembling hand.  Leaning my head back against the tub, I squeezed my eyes shut. _I got out. I’m free.  It was just a dream_ , I murmured, trying to gain some semblance of control over my tumultuous emotions.  The porcelain was cool against my hot, clammy skin. _Breathe.  Just breathe_.  A cry of surprise escaped my lips as pain tore through my palms.  My eyes narrowed as I opened my hands, unclenched the fists I hadn’t even known had formed.  Small, crescent shaped indentations ran along the length of both palms where my nails had dug deeply into my flesh.   

My breath hitched.  I could have sworn... no.  It must have been a shadow, my eyes playing tricks on me.  Magical or no, tattoos didn’t blink. I gazed warily at the catlike eye tattooed inked upon the palm of my hand.  It seemed to be assessing me, considering me, and coming up short. My lips pulled back in a snarl, and I looked away in disgust.  He had yet to call in the bargain I had so foolishly made, desperate to heal the wound that the Middengard wyrm had inflicted.

A cool breeze coming in from an open window caressed my cheek.  Why hadn’t he called in the bargain?I gazed out of the window, into the endless night sky.  While Tam tried not to show it, at least not in front of me, I knew that it made him uneasy, the uncertainty of it all… not knowing Rhysand’s game.  Tam and Lucien were searching for ways to break the bargain, but hadn’t had any success. But in the months since Under the Mountain, we had yet to hear anything from the High Lord of the Night Court.  Was it because he was my...

Not my anything!

I stood clumsily, still not wholly used to my new, elongated limbs.  I walked to the window, the cool night air a balm on my otherwise jagged nerves.  I rested my forearms along the window sill, content to stare out into the inky depths of the night.

He hadn’t wanted it any more than I had, that much was obvious. He hadn’t wanted this... bond between us.  He hadn’t wanted me. For Cauldron’s sake, he would have winnowed away from me, had I not stopped him. No wonder he hadn’t called in the bargain.  To him, I was a tool to be wielded against Tamlin, to piss him off. Nothing more, nothing less. Whatever his reasons, I was grateful he hadn’t called in the bargain, forced me to go to the Night Court against my will.  

I slammed the window shut, the glass reverberated dangerously.  Casting aside thoughts of a dresser drawer painted long ago, I walked back into my bedroom.  I climbed back into the bed next to Tamlin, who was sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of the soul crushing guilt that was slowly consuming me day by day.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I love getting comments and constructive criticism! Hope you enjoyed it! ~Rachel
> 
> Find me on Tumblr- illyrianbeauty


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